The Burglaress
by phantom-lass
Summary: FemBilbo "After all whoever heard of a lady-burglar?" Dwalin wasn't expecting the small female to answer the door. Bilbo wasn't expecting the axe-wielding dwarf on her doorstep. Protective Dwalin. Flirting Fili and Kili. Grouchy Thorin - for a bit. Fill to a prompt!
1. Chapter 1

***I do not own The Hobbit - book or movie. I am only playing with the characters :)**

**Chapter 1**

_For some, life changing situations happen in a grand way. The stars align in such a way that no one is under any other impression that this person was meant for greatness. Maybe they were meant to be a grand ruler. To rule over a vast kingdom with wisdom and benevolence. To be loved by one and all. Or perhaps a mighty warrior who could take down an entire army with a handful of brave and faithful men. Who would no doubt win the hand of a fair lady and slay all of her dragons. _

_Their adventures seem to begin from the cradle._

_Sonnets and ballads are sung about such ones and their greatness. For there was never any doubt that fate was leading them towards that end. They are the stuff of legend._

_But such was not the tale of one brave soul. _

_There was no grand revelation of destiny for poor Bilbo Baggins who found herself thrown into the middle of a story not her own thanks to the meddling ways of a wizard. _

_No, although she was not aware of it Miss Baggins' adventure began when she was just sitting down to her supper and there came a knock at the door…_

* * *

Dwalin was no expert on Hobbits. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of times he had seen one before stepping foot into the Shire (apparently Hobbit folk weren't great travellers). But he had seen enough to know that despite their beardless state there was a clear difference between the males and females of the Hobbit people.

So when the round, port-hole perfect green door opened he was surprised by the clearly female figure wrapped from shoulders to furry feet in a patchwork robe tied firmly at the waist.

After all whoever heard of a lady-burglar?

Actually, whoever heard of a Hobbit-burglar? He certainly hadn't before Gandalf had brought it up.

Dwalin had always thought that Hobbits appeared slight and almost child-like no matter the gender when compared to the more robust and broad frames of his own people. But the figure at the door was definitely female he was sure of it.

Dwalin was struck dumb by this sudden change in events, not knowing how to proceed. How was he supposed to guess that…that…

Giant blue eyes looked up at him from under long lashes and freckles were dusted across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. A long braid of hair – slightly darker than corn – fell over one shoulder to stop just short of her small waist.

Absolutely female!

Gandalf – he knew the wizard wasn't trustworthy, he had told Thorin to be wary of him but had he listened? – had made no mention of the burglar being a woman so Dwalin and the rest of the company had assumed he was a…well….he.

The lass stood staring at him, her eyes wide in her fair face – aye, she was a bonnie little thing even if she didn't have a beard– and he quickly recovered himself, bowing deeply at the waist.

"Dwalin, at your service ma'am,"

He had never been a good judge of the age of peoples who weren't dwarves and experience had taught his to err on the side of caution when addressing others.

The Hobbit blushed and tightened the sash of her robe before a hand went to the edge of the door the other went across her middle to latch onto the fabric of her robe. Dwain knew a defensive move when he saw one and everything in him baulked at the idea that he was making her uncomfortable. A woman should never be made to feel so in her own home.

"Um…Bilbo Baggins at yours," she attempted a little curtsy but only managed a little bob without taking her hands from their places.

Any little bit of hope that the lass was the burglar's wife or daughter fizzled out before it even had the chance to take root.

Dwalin cursed inwardly at the damned wizard for not imparting this little gem of much needed information.

From the look of confusion and nervousness on Miss Baggin's face the poor lass had no idea what he – a rather imposing figure of a dwarf even if he did say so himself – was doing at her door well after sunset. If he had known he would have held off till the morning. Or more as likely never have stepped foot in the Shire in search of Bag-end to begin with as Thorin would never have permitted it.

The poor things knuckles were beginning to go white where she was grasping the door and he could tell from the way she was eyeing up the door and him that she was wondering if she could close the door fast enough before he could make a move to stop her.

He dredged up his long unused manners and set about trying to set the lass at ease.

"My apologies for the lateness of the hour but I was sent by Gandalf,"

He saw the tension leave her shoulders slightly but she frowned at the mention of the wizard.

"Gandalf?" she queried breathing deeply.

"Yes ma'am, He said we were to come along as soon as we could," he nodded his head and tried not to fidget.

She paled.

"We?" she choked.

How was he supposed to tell her about the others when she had clearly been expecting no company to begin with?

"The rest of the company," he answered weakly, wondering if he should divulge the number in the company. He decided against it. The lass looked ready to bolt as it was. Not that he blamed her.

_Can she see my axes?_

_Of course she can. _

"Company?" the lass gulped. "Is this to do with the 'adventure' Gandalf mentioned?" he hardly managed an "aye, probably" before she continued "Because I told him no one around here would be interested in such a thing," she shivered, "I was quite clear that Bree would be the best place to look for people wanting to go adventuring, or further across the water, their a funny lot that way,"

The wee Hobbit was beginning to look very upset now but she seemed to pull herself together as one hand slowly dropped from the door and the other lowered from its protective post across her body.

She gave him a small smile. Weak, but a smile all the same and he couldn't believe for a minute that this was the burglar that Gandalf had spoken of.

"I am terribly sorry. This is very rude of me, "she stepped away from the doorway almost as though she was being dragged from it, "Please come in,"

The little thing was nervous of him, the tension still visibly thrumming through her body a testament to that and he made up his mind.

"No thank you ma'am,"

She straightened in surprise, her eyes wide.

"You go along in and I'll wait here for Gandalf and he can sort out this whole mess when he arrives,"

Silence fell between them for a moment as the Hobbit stared at him as though she was trying to figure out if he was being truthful and would actually stay outside.

She blinked and then lowered her gaze before looking at him sheepishly.

"Umm…thank you Mr Dwalin,"

"Just Dwalin," he smiled, dipping slightly at the waist again.

A smile flirted with the corner of her lips and a light danced in her eyes for the first time since she had opened the door. It didn't last long but

"**Mr** Dwalin," she stressed and he worried that he had offended her – perhaps it was improper for Hobbits to use the first name in such a way so soon after meeting? But the slight glow in her eyes and the smile set him at ease. "Can I…can I at least bring you a drink?" she asked him softly as he backed away from her door, trying to put as much space between them as he could while still at speaking distance.

"Thank you ma'am," he smiled as reassuringly as he knew how and tried to think of something none threatening to ask for.

"Just Bilbo, Mr Dwalin," the faint nervous smile made another appearance and his smile broadened against his will as she seemed to grow more at ease with him now she was reassured he would stay outside.

"Some…" none threatening Dwalin, don't ask for beer. "Tea would be fine, thank you…Miss Bilbo," her eyes twinkled a bit more and he felt ten feet tall.

"Tea it is then," she began to back away into the house and then she froze and began to worry a loose strand of cotton on her robe while glancing behind him left and right.

He quickly realised what the problem was.

"I'll make myself comfortable on one of the steps, don't you worry yourself over that," he rushed to reassure her.

"Are you certain, I can-"

"Yes I am certain,"

The lass continued to stand for a few more seconds, moving from one small furry foot to the other in indecision before she left him with a "I won't be long," and closed the door softly.

Dwalin sighed heavily and looked up at the star-filled sky as though it would provide him with some answers. Nothing was forthcoming.

He did know one thing though.

He was going to be having a long talk with the wizard when he arrived.

* * *

Bilbo shut her door and leaned against it, all the strength draining from her legs and turning her muscles to custard.

_Were they axes that he had on his back?_

* * *

**There will never be a A/N this long again I am just including the prompt this one time :)**

**Hi everyone. **

**So I watched The Hobbit for the first time a few weeks ago (and have since also seen The Fellowship of the Ring - yes, it can be argued that I have been living under a rock ;)) and the fanfiction side of my brain went nuts. BUT I was going to behave and NOT write anything. And then I stumbled across the Hobbit Kink Meme on Live journal and MAY have had a nosey through the prompts and MAY have started to jot down some things to - **

**OKAY FINE! The fanfiction Goblins started to go crazy in my head and battered at my skull. What could I do? It was either write or death by fanfic Goblin - not a pretty sight.**

**I am posting this elsewhere too but I felt such a traitor not putting it up here too ;)**

**FULL PROMPT (I would give you the link but I can never write it so it will show) - I can just imagine Dwalin in some ways is a giant teddy bear, so when he ends up on the doorstep of a female Bilbo Baggins he is charmed by her skittishness. Cue Dwalin appointing himself as her protector during the journey.**

**At first it's hard because Thorin doesn't like her and Dwalin has to balance both his charges. Then the Azog incident happens and it's even worse! Thorin has now set his sights on the hobbit and on one hand he's Dwalins leader, and on the other if Thorin doesn't stop staring at the burglar then Dwalin's going to poke his eyes out.**

**Bonuses:**  
**Dwalin brushes Bilbo's hair every night before they go to sleep**

**Fili and Kili create the game of who can wind up Dwalin most by flirting with the hobbit.**

**Balin smothering his laughter on the sidelines**

**I can't guarantee that I'll hit all the point (I will try though) but this is where the idea came from.**

**So endeth the uber long A/N. **

**Take care guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing :-)**

**Chapter 2**

**Bilbo's Point of View**

Bilbo steadied her still slightly shaking hands against the counter as the kettle began to steam on the hob, seconds away from whistling.

She did not like opening the door after dark – everyone in the Shire knew this, it was true that they thought her a little queer because of it, but they accepted it - but her mother's lessons on manners and hospitality had always been hard to push to the side and had not allowed her to ignore the uninvited visitor at her door.

She had reasoned that it might have been one of the local children as they were always coming around to hear stories of her mother, Belladonna and occasionally they had come after dark only for her to send them away to come back in the morning.

But instead of a wide eyed and eager young Hobbit she had been met with the armoured, axe carrying bulk of the dwarf.

_Dwalin, _she corrected himself.

And Gandalf the Wizard had sent him to her house. At night. When she was alone. Well, her being alone wasn't much of a change when all was said and done but still you did not invite people to another person's home without telling the 'host'. It just wasn't done. And although Gandalf had mumbled something about 'informing the others' he had said nothing to her about expecting guests.

_Adventure indeed. _

She let out a shaky breath.

"Pull yourself together, Bilbo!" she snapped at herself as she reached for one of mugs kept at the back of her odds-and-ends cupboard (Belladonna had always believed in being prepared and Bilbo hadn't had the heart to throw them away) – Dwalin did not look like a cup and saucer person. She made quick work of steeping some tea in the pot and straining the brown liquid into the mug, almost three quarters of the pot vanishing into it.

She stole a look at her still full dinner plate. Bilbo usually didn't eat so much at supper but had lost track of time in the garden and missed several meals during the day. Her stomach grumbled but she pushed the hunger to the back of her head. She had a quasi-guest to see too and her stomach could last a little while longer until she had done so.

She placed the mug on a tray along with a pot of sugar and some milk and lifting the tray headed for the door.

For a spilt second she considered changing out of her robe but thought better of it. It was bad enough that she was keeping someone sitting on her front step – her mother would be spinning in her grave – the least she could do was get him a drink without any further delays.

The always oiled door glided open with little effort and she froze.

She could make out the figure of not just one but two dwarves in the light from the doorway. Their frames were bulky and frightening in the gloom.

A lamp. She would bring a lamp out to the garden as soon as she coul.

Bilbo's throat closed and she had to cough to clear it.

"Um…tea Mr Dwalin," she squeaked and the newest arrivals eyes landed on her.

The sight of this new unknown set her just settled nerves jingling again.

* * *

**While Bilbo Was Making the Tea - with Dwalin**

Dwalin sat down on the top step – still more than a few feet away from the door and hopefully a safe enough distance to make the little creature a little less nervous of his presence near her home. Propping his elbows on his knees and dropping his face into his hands he sighed wearily.

Thorin was not going to happy about this development at all. He already resented the idea of the Hobbit joining the company – even if it was at Gandalf's request and they were desperate for another body – but once he found out that Gandalf was willing to endanger a woman…well it would be back to the beginning again and they would be looking for another fourteenth member.

Dwalin remembered the way her little frame had been dwarfed by the doorway and the way she had looked up at him, her blue eyes wide in her too pale face. Everything about her was small – her being a Hobbit not withstanding – even in the bulky, shapeless robe he could make out her slight shoulders. The wizard must have lost his senses to think that she could be suited for the job of company burglar. How could the old man expect her to face the dangers that they would undoubtedly encounter on their journey to Erebor? Not to mention the risks that could be revealed upon reaching the mountain.

A cold finger tripped down his spine at the thought of any of the company laying senseless, or lifeless on the ground with their blood staining the ground around them…like so many had been at Moria… but everything in his blood rebelled at the very idea of a woman being in such a position.

"Brother, what are you doing skulking and frowning into the dark like a kicked dog," laughed a familiar voice, thoroughly amused, "I have never known you to be nervous about meeting new folk,"

Dwalin's head shot up and he stood at the voice, a smile temporarily clearing the pensive expression from his face. It had been a long time since he had smiled so much in such a short time.

There, several feet from him was his brother, smiling with arms raised high in greeting.

A deep chuckle escaped them both. It had been the same way they had greeted each other since they had turned old enough to go their own ways. A chuckle that said a world of words and yet hardly any. A chuckle that could be boiled down to one sentence 'you are alive and in one piece then I see'.

"By my beard brother, you have grown wider and shorter since last we met," he guffawed.

His brother's face spilt into a grin.

Balin had been blessed with the softer features of their mother, all kindness and friendly eyes.

"Wider. Not shorter," his brother corrected on a laugh.

"And sharp enough for the two of us," he added.

"As always," Dwalin nodded his head. It was the way things had always been. Balin was the scholar and Dwalin the warrior and protector. Of course his brother could swing an axe or sword as well as anyone – as had been proved well enough time after time since Erobor had fallen – but he was most at home among his books and parchments.

"Aye, as always," Balin's eyes twinkled.

Dwalin chortled along with his brother and stepped down the few steps separating them, gripping his slightly shorter brother by the shoulders firmly he looked into his smiling face as Balin gripped just above his elbows.

They clashed heads and released each other.

Dwalin moved out of his brother's line of vision as Balin started to peer over his shoulder at the round green door with its blue glowing sign – courtesy of the company wizard he had no doubt.

"Are we late then?" Balin asked glancing between the door and Dwalin.

Dwalin shook his head.

Balin starred at him.

"Then why are we out here instead of in there," he pointed at the door, "eating the food and drinking the beer the wizard promised us?" he started up the steps for the door and Dwalin quickly stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"The good wizard," Dwalin bit out the words, still planning several ways to de-limb the old coot, "didn't tell us all,"

Balin frowned and Dwalin released his hold now that he was sure his brother wasn't going to further disturb the little Hobbit making tea somewhere in the side of the hill.

"**The he is a she Balin,**" he growled reverting to his mother tongue as he often did when in the presence of his brother.

"**Beg pardon?" **Balin blinked at him.

**"You heard me just fine. Or should I be looking for a horn for you like Oin's?**"

The glow had gone entirely from his brother's face and was quickly draining from his eyes.

"**The burglar is a lass,**" Dwalin clarified as the information sank into his brothers mind.

"**Are you certain? You know how these beardless peoples are, even the menfolk look like women with their smooth faces,**" Balin rushed.

Dwalin merely quirked a brow at this, and was saved from answering by a throat being cleared behind him.

"Um…tea Mr Dwalin,"

Dwalin would have been lying if he said that he didn't feel amused as his brother's eyes widened and they came to rest on the little figure of Miss Bilbo Baggins. He very nearly gave in a laughed as his brother's eye brows travelled further up his forehead.

"I'm sorry, I did not realise there was an…um…other member of your company here,"

Schooling his face he turned from Balin to the Hobbit.

She was standing silhouetted by the light from the open door, holding a tray in her hands and still dressed for bed.

He stepped forward to relieve her of the tray and he noticed that she immediately began to wring her hands together, fidgeting as much as she could while still standing her ground.

"My thanks Miss Bilbo. May I introduce my brother, Balin," Dwalin could hear his brother clearing his throat behind him, being a bit slower to get over the surprise than Dwalin had been.

Balin stepped up beside him.

"At your service Miss Baggins," his brother bowed.

Dwalin felt awkward holding the slight tea-tray in his hands – hands that had held nothing more fragile than a hammer in years – and glanced around for somewhere to put it.

"Bilbo Baggins, sir," she nodded her head and her knees dipped a little before straightening, "at yours,"

He put the tray down carefully onto the stone step. It tilted slightly on the grass that had grown over the stone work but thankfully none of the liquid spilled. His quest accomplished he returned to his brothers side.

Dwalin saw that any head way he had made with the Hobbit had just been washed down the river. Before she had disappeared into her house to make the tea her eyes had twinkled. Now they were wary and darting between them.

"Can I…Can I get you some tea also Master Balin?" she smiled, although it never reached her eyes as it had done.

Silence fell between them and Dwalin groaned inwardly as his brother continued to just stare at the supposed burglar.

"Aye that would be fine Miss Bilbo," he answered for his brother, "Would it not Balin?" he smiled and slapped his brother hard on the back knocking him out of his daze.

"What?" Balin coughed.

"Tea brother," he ground out.

"Oh yes indeed, thank you,"

Bilbo was already backing away to her door.

"Won't be a minute,"

The round green door shut with soft click.

Dwalin glared at his brother. The dwarf could face an Orc army and not balk but a little Hobbit had him frozen to the spot. Of all the times to-

"**That Hobbit is a lass**," Balin broke the silence his mouth agape.

"**Aye, she is**,"

* * *

**Awe, poor Balin. Bilbo broke him hehe :-)**

**Thank you for the comments for chapter 1 - I hope you enjoyed this :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Still own nothing (very sad really) ;)**

**Chapter 3**

**Bilbo's Point of View**

Bilbo once again found herself standing in her kitchen, a newly refilled tea pot in hand, pouring the dark steaming liquid into a mug.

She rushed it out to the newest arrival, who thanked her handsomely – although his eyes still looked as though he had had some sort of shock (she hoped he would make liberal use of the sugar to settle him) - before she rushed back into her hole to finally get changed out of her night clothes and into something more respectable for receiving guests.

But really what could they expect? Showing up at her door in such a way, at a time when most Hobbits where sitting down for their suppers if not actually in their beds already.

She dashed into her room and closed the door. After a moment of thought she slid the bolt home – just in case.

Wasting no more time she quickly raided her wardrobe and drawers. Pulling out the clothes she needed and changing into them with a practiced ease. Her fingers flew over the buttons and laces. She tugged on the dull green fabric of her favourite skirt to get it to sit properly; straightening the waist with a slight wriggle and then the sleeves of her shirt received the same treatment. Happy with the outcome she pulled a heavy shawl from her drawer and draped it over her shoulders. Crossing the ends across her front she tied them together at the base of her back. She settled herself with running a hand over her braided hair and pushing stray ends under the twisted strands. It would have to do.

She was now as presentable as she would get for the time being.

Bilbo forced herself out of her bedroom and back into the kitchen when all she wanted to do was bolt her door against the world and forget all about Gandalf and lost dwarves – because there was no other explanation for them being at her door…they had to be lost. But then she remembered that Gandalf had _sent _them…

She pulled out several plates from one of the many cupboards and began to half and butter the scones that had been cooling by the kitchen window since early morning. She had been planning to snack on them the next day but she had visitors now and couldn't leave them without anything to go with their tea. It wouldn't be proper or very hospitable. But then again keeping them stuck outside wasn't terribly welcoming of her either and that was a situation that wasn't going to change until Gandalf made an appearance.

She stole another longing glance at her rapidly cooling dinner and gave it up as a lost cause, settling for half a scone instead. It would be rude of her to sit down and eat her dinner while she had visitors after all.

_Even if they are uninvited. _

Once all of the scones were cut in half and buttered on the plate and she had lit a lamp for the garden she once again made the journey to her front door.

What a strange evening this was turning out to be. But then she really should have realised that something would happen, what with Gandalf making a sudden appearance at her garden gate after being gone from the Shire for so long.

She remembered the wizard from years before but the in the vague foggy way that childhood memories have. And that memory was filled with the howling of wolves and the bitter cold of snow. ..

"_I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure,"_

She shivered at the wizards words that echoed around her mind and gripped the plate tighter in her trembling hands.

"…_they make you late for dinner…"_

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head focusing on the here and now. The past could stay where it was for now.

Bilbo opened the door to find Balin and Dwalin speaking to two more arrivals.

She sighed.

_I think I am going to need more tea._

* * *

**Dwalin's Point of View**

Dwalin and Balin fell silent for a while after Balin's initial statement. Dwalin knew that Balin was thinking and he would break the silence when he wanted to and that there would be no point in rushing him.

And that just happened to be when the Hobbit came scuttling out the house and all but thrust a mug into Balin's hands before vanishing back inside just as quickly.

The door shut.

And Balin began.

"_**That **_**was a lass**," Dwalin was beginning to think that his brother had lost some of that sharpness he had been boasting of only minutes before.

"**Yes, I believe we have settled that Balin,**" he rumbled.

He was annoyed that his brothers presence had set the lass on her guard again and wished the wizard would get himself to Bag-end before the Hobbit gave up on her bravery and just bared the door against them. At the very least he hoped Gandalf would arrive before Thorin did…

"I do not believe that she was expecting us," Balin finally spoke a full sentence that didn't include a variation of 'she's a lass'.

Dwalin grunted at his brother's words.

"I don't think that we are the only ones that the wizard withheld information from,"

Dwalin sat back down on the step and took the steaming mug of tea from the tray. He gave the sugar a contemplative look, shrugged, and spooned three large tea-spoons full into the mug. He gave the milk the same look but decided against it, instead he took a tentative sip of the almost scolding drink. Dwalin had never been one for drinking tea – unless it was being forced down his throat by a healer – and he was surprised to find the sweet but slightly bitter liquid not altogether unpleasant. Nothing at all like some of the noxious concoctions poured into him after an injury.

Balin joined him at the tray and poured a generous helping of milk into his own mug.

"Well this is a pretty little mess Gandalf has got us into and that is no mistake," Balin announced almost cheerfully, smacking his lips together appreciatively after taking a drink and lowering himself onto the stop beside Dwalin.

"Aye,"

Silence fell again between them as they sat sipping on their tea, staring out into night.

It was a peaceful place this Bag-end.

You could hear the wee creatures rustling in the hedges and the late birds flapping overhead. And the mumbling of voices.

Voices?

"Mr Balin, Mr Dwalin,"

Dwalin looked towards the gate to see two of the youngest members of the company walking along the wall.

Balin sighed as he stood and Dwalin followed suit. The royal youngsters jostled each other to get in the gate – blonde Fili ultimately giving in and letting his younger brother through first. Dwalin was just glad the gate survived.

"Are we late? Has it been cancelled?" Kili asked in a rush. sounding disappointed at the prospect.

"No lad, nothings been cancelled," Balin reassured him and Dwalin very nearly spat out a mouthful of tea at the wide grin that split the youngster's face. Had he been so eager when he had gone on his first quest? If so he had been disillusioned quickly enough.

"That's a relief," Kili sighed, the smile still firmly fixed in place as he glanced eagerly between Balin and Dwalin.

"There is something we must speak of though. It is about the burglar-"

A beam of light fell from the door and Dwalin groaned inwardly. If his relatively sedate brother made the Hobbit nervous he dreaded to think how she would be when Fili and Kili got started. Thorin's nephews weren't best known for their subtlety.

They all turned towards the door and Dwalin froze for a moment.

The lass had changed her clothes and now that she was no longer in the robe he could see how slight she was. The lines of her small body outlines by the gown and even the shawl did nothing to disguise the fact that she was delicately built. More fuel was added to the anger burning within him against the wizard. Would she even survive the journey to Erebor? What was the wizard thinking?

Before either he or Balin could grab the young princes by their scruffs to hold them in place they had dashed towards the small figure and were intruding themselves in that way they had done since they were boys.

"Fili," announced the blonde.

"Kili," announced the brunette.

"At your service," they said in unison, bowing deeply.

Bilbo was looking between the two dwarves with a look of bemusement.

"You must be Mr Boggins!" Kili announced cheerily and Dwalin rolled his eyes. Was the boy blind or just an idiot?

"I'm sorry…who?" Bilbo questioned frowning with confusion and looking past the brothers to…him.

Dwalin felt a thrill go through him as her eyes landed on him. Looking to him. He was so used to having the opposite affect that it was almost heady. With his scars and less than approachable looks he could not remember there ever being a time when someone had looked to him for reassurance.

The brothers turned with almost comical slowness to him, their eyes wide and a blush lighting up Kili's cheeks like a beacon.

The Hobbit wound her way past the shocked brothers and came towards him.

"More of your company Mr Dwalin?" she asked, smiling up at him. The twinkle in her eyes almost back but still guarded.

He smiled down at her, unable to stop himself from feeling proud of her.

"Aye Miss Bilbo,"

She glanced down and he followed her movement, seeing for the first time the plate she was carrying and noticing the burning lamp.

She shrugged and handed him the plate and the lamp. None of them really needed the lamp, coming from a race of miners made for almost perfect eyesight in the darkness – and the added light from the windows was all they really needed –but he smiled thank fully at her.

"I'll be off to make more tea then, help yourself to the scones," she turned about and retraced her route past the boys to her door. He watched her go and looked on with interest as Fili and Kili followed her with their eyes, and then their heads.

She paused at the door and turned.

"And its _Miss,_" she looked at the boys and frowned, but he was sure he caught the corner of her mouth quirking with a suppressed smile, "_Baggins,"_

The door closed.

* * *

**Hi everyone. **

**I hope you are having a good and safe weekend :)**

**I give you Fili and Kili I will hopefully have lots more of them in the course of the story so fear not!:)**

**Thank you for the comments - I am so glad you are enjoying this and I hope you will continue too.**

**Tale care :)**

**EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA****EXTRA**

**This was for Kitrazzle and VerteriLunum on AO3 (figured I might as well pop it in here too) - enjoy** -

**Fili - ~~Wait, that's a girl!~~**  
**Kili - ~~That's a girl!~~**  
**Both - ~~Ooo a pretty girl~~**  
**Kili - You must be Mr Boggins ~~IDIOT!~~**  
**Fili - *face palm* ~~Smooth Kili~~**  
**Kili - ~~wait, she's looking at me. Did I wash my face this morning?~~**  
**Fili - ~~She's looking at me. Well, my beard is amazing after all.~~**  
**Both - ~~Wait?~~**  
***turn***  
**Both - ~~DWALIN!~~**

**Dwalin - *sips delicately at his mug of tea* ~~Oh yeah! I still got it.~~**


	4. Chapter 4

***Yip, you got it. I still own nada***

**Chapter 4**

**Dwalin's Point of View**

Dwalin glared at the circular green door. He was really starting to hate that door.

Dwalin and Balin watched the young princes with rising amusement as their gazes remained fixed on the perfectly round entry point to the Hobbit's home. Then without warning whatever spell they had fallen under broke as simultaneously and they turned to look at each other. Then they turned fully to face Dwalin and Balin who had both gone back to their drinks.

Dwalin thought that he could get used to tea – as far as teas went this had to be one of the best he had ever tried.

The boys stared wide eyed – and pink faced where Kili was concerned – at their elders.

"Mr Boggins?" Fili finally broke the silence, scoffing at his brother and shoving an elbow into his side. Dwalin rolled his eyes but made no move to stop the brothers as they began to swat at each other.

"At least I said something," Kili said as though it was an achievement.

"Poor defence that," Balin observed and Dwalin grunted in agreement. This seemed to remind the royal brothers that they had an audience and they immediately stopped batting at each other.

"That," Fili gasped, pointing behind him at the closed door – Dwalin really hated that door, "was a girl," Kili was nodding his head so hard in agreement that Dwalin was waiting for it to fly right off.

Dwalin glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye and caught him doing the same thing. They exchanged smirks and remained silent. The two younger dwarves didn't need to know how close their reactions were to what their own had been after all.

Fili and Kili exchanged glances again.

"No, you see _that,_" again Fili pointed to the door at his back, "was a gi-rl," he enunciated carefully, eyes as wide as a dragon's dinner plate. Kili's head continued to go up and down.

"Aye, she is," Dwalin finally took pity on them.

"So the burglar is a…is a-" Kili stammered.

"Not-Mister," Fili finished.

Dwain sighed heavily. Thorin had better settle down soon because he shuddered to think of one of these idiots inheriting the crown.

"We wait for Gandalf," Balin announced, "He will sort this out,"

Dwalin didn't hold out much hope on the wizard sorting anything out – this was his plot after all.

* * *

**Bilbo's Point of View**

Bilbo reached to the back of one of the cupboards she was sure her mother had kept the 'big-folk tea-pot' in. She would be standing by the kettle all night boiling water if she used her own much smaller tea-pot. She would make up a big pot and drag a table into the hallway and leave the front door open. That way they could serve themselves at the table and march right back outside to the garden until Gandalf arrived.

"Haha," she crowed in victory as her hand closed on the handle of the tea-pot and she dragged it out. It was a hefty thing and it would be even heavier with the water in it but it would suit the purpose. Pot found she sat it in the sink to give it a quick wash out and set the kettle to boil again.

Bilbo wondered what the rest of this company would be like. The four outside were an interesting group all by themselves. She found herself thinking of Dwalin as she ran a damp cloth over the outside of the teapot. She had been frightened of the large dwarf when she had opened the door. Everything about him from the art upon his skin to the weapons on his back told her that he was dangerous – not to mention the scars - and yet everything that he had done had set her at ease and she hadn't had to think twice about going to him when the two strangers had approached her and introduced themselves.

With names like Fili and Kili and the way they had been so in sync with each other she guessed that they were brothers.

"Mr Boggins, indeed," she giggled.

And then a knock came at the door.

**Dwalin's Point of View**

Dwalin stood silently to the side, as was his habit, and watched as the wizard bent low to knock on the door and Balin filled in the company. Dwalin had already growled at them quickly about respect but had been forced to leave the rest to his brother when he had seen the wizard approach the door.

The door opened and Balin fell silent. Dwalin's gaze remained fixed on the wizard and the Hobbit, he didn't need to look to know every single one of the dwarves was doing the same thing.

The lass seemed startled to have the wizard in front of her but the frown that had creased her forehead faded from her face a moment later.

"Gandalf," she acknowledged the wizard.

"Bilbo," the wizard replied.

Dwalin felt more than a little disappointed as he had wanted her to send the wizard on his way.

The dissappiintment vanished in an instant though and was replaced with that glowing feeling again when the Hobbit sighed and peered around the wizard, looking for him. Her eyes met his for a moment and she gave him a small smile, he returned it and she quickly took in the rest of the company. She paled and sighed focusing once again on the wizard.

"You had best come in," she sounded like someone who had just accepted something they didn't like but knew that they couldn't do anything to change it.

"Thank you my dear," the wizard sounded far to cheerful and Dwalin glared at him harder – if that was possible.

Gandalf stepped aside and gestured for the dwarves to enter the house. They lingered for a moment or two but Fili and Kili – unsurprisingly – were the first to make for the door already unfastening their weapons.

"**Behave,**" Dwalin growled at them.

The rest of the company followed suit jostling for entry through the door.

Dwalin was in no such hurry, instead he stalked to the wizards side and spoke low.

"I would be having a word with you wizard," he growled at the grey man.

"Indeed Master Dwarf," Gandalf replied unruffled, "I look forward to it," he bent to enter the house.

"You shouldn't," Dwalin shot back and the dwarves easily made way for the man. Dwalin wondered what Fili and Kili were doing to be stopping the others from entering and moved closer to the back of the company.

"Nice place this. Did you do it yourself?" he heard Kili's voice.

"No," came the faint reply, "My father built it for my – can you please not do that. That's my mother's glory box!"

"Let me pass," he snapped viciously and the company parted in much the same way as they had done for Gandalf.

He entered the softly glowing home – to say it was under a hill it was very cosy – and found Kili lowering his booted foot from the edge of a finely decorated wooden chest and Fili piling his many weapon upon its lid. His eyes travelled next to the little Hobbit who was standing by the entrance of what smelled like the kitchen. She was shifting from one foot to the other and wringing her hands together fretfully. Everything in the way she was holding her body screamed that she wanted to dash forward and put a stop to their actions but her eyes shone with fright.

That decided him.

He strode forward, cuffing both younger dwarves sharply about the head, grabbed both of them by the scruffs and dragged them away from the group. He released them as they spat out protests to their treatment. Well, they should have listened to him if they hadn't wanted to be treated like children.

"Has you uncle taught you nothing?" mention of Thorin silenced them both, "This is not your home.. You are guests. You will treat it and its owner with the respect deserved," he snarled and they had the decency to lower their eyes and nod their heads.

They were good lads really, Dwalin knew this. But they had spent the majority of their young lives traveling and he knew their education when it came to manners was not all it could be. They were also prone to jokes and purposefully testing the patience of those around them. Patience that he was lacking right now.

"Now get. And behave yourselves,"

They didn't need to be told twice and he followed them towards the noise where the rest of the company were wasting no time in ferrying food from the pantry to what appeared to be the dining room. He glanced to the glory box to find that the weapons had been removed and were now propped against the wall by the door in an orderly group.

"You did what?" he spun about looking for the owner of the voice and quickly spotted the too tall figure of Gandalf standing slightly stooped in the kitchen speaking with a very angry looking Hobbit.

"They have had a long journey here and they needed some…incentive,"

"And that incentive was my pantry!" the Hobbit hissed, the paleness in her cheeks gone and replaced with a bright flush. Dwalin was glad to see that she had some spirit after all and that currently it was being aimed at Gandalf.

In fact, she looked right bonnie with her cheeks all red and her hands on her hips instead of all wrapped around herself. Dwalin was glad he wasn't in Gandalf's place.

He shook his head and left them to their not so whispered argument. He weaved through the bustling dwarves and stepped out the door to recover the tray now balancing precariously on the edge of the step. No doubt kicked by the all too eager feet of hungry dwarves. He lifted it carefully – the delicate wood feeling as breakable as spun glass in his battle hardened hands. He quickly spotted the empty plate sitting half in and half on top of a hedge and placed it on the tray too. He hadn't even managed to get one of the scones before the rest had arrived and the plate was snatched from his hand and passed around – to obviously end up in a hedge. If the appreciative mumbles had been anything to go by the lass could bake.

Turning back to the hillside he pulled up short and swiftly raised the tray high as a small body barrelled into him. A gasp came from the person and they stepped back. They raised their head and he was looking into the still flushed face of Bilbo Baggins.

"Oh, Mr Dwalin, I am sorry. I was just coming out to fetch…" she looked up to where he still held the tray high above her head and giggled, "that actually," she pointed at the tray and covered her mouth to muffle her giggles. Her eyes were twinkling again above her hand and he couldn't find it in himself to care about the slight blush he could feel burning his cheeks when he lowered his arms.

He handed her the tray when she held out her hands for it and quickly made sure that the mugs and crockery wouldn't topple from it when she moved.

"Thank you Mr Dwalin," she smiled.

"I apologise for the way the company are," a raucous bought of laughter drifted from the house and she jumped slightly at the sudden noise.

"No need. Gandalf has told me that this will be the first proper meal many of you have had for a while. I can't be angry about that," she smiled at him and turned, tray in hand, to go back into the hill.

"It's just Dwalin, Miss Bilbo," he reminded her.

She paused before crossing the threshold and glanced over her shoulder at him. Her eyes twinkling brightly.

"And it's just Bilbo, _Mr _Dwalin," she smiled cheekily.

* * *

**Hi **

**Thank you so much for the feedback – it is really encouraging guys you have no idea :-)**

**Thorin will be showing up in the next chapter. Whoop Whoop.**

**Don't you just love Fili and Kili (even if they are acting like idiots hehe). **

**What do you think of the Dwalin/Bilbo interactions? Does it seem real or forced...or...well anything? **

**Take care everyone. Next update will be Saturday :)**

**:)**


	5. Chapter 5

***Aaaaaaaaaan still own nowt***

**Chapter 5**

**Bilbo's Point of View**

Bilbo was going to crack. She could feel it. There was a lump of something heavy bubbling in her chest and it was getting heavier as her anxiety rose.

Gandalf had quickly taken charge of the dwarves within seconds of his arrival (just before she could drag him into the kitchen for a talking too) and had set them to work. And that work had been moving furniture and finding chairs to fit everyone into her dining room.

An old chest that she kept several sets of curtains and a few table clothes in (and that usually sat quite happily in the dining room) had been moved to the hallway along with the nice free-standing cupboard that had shelves to showcase some of the prettier plates her mother had collected. All moved to make more room to 'fit everybody in'. She had made quick work of carefully removing the decorative plates (how they hadn't fallen and smashed during the move she didn't know but she had no intention of courting fate) from the two shelves and rushing them to her bedroom to sit safely on her bed.

She had managed to rescue her grandfather's chair from one of the dwarves who was quite happily ferrying it to the dining table. In his defence, and once he had remembered to raise his hearing horn to his ear, he had been very apologetic and immediately put the family relic back where he had found it. And all the while the rest of them had been ransacking her pantry and even broke out the last barrel of ale that had been leftover from her coming of age the year before – of course she didn't actually like the stuff but she had a sentimental attachment to it.

She had even had to catch two small wheels cheese as they were tossed over the shoulder of one of the dwarves when he was inspecting her pantry shelves. She was sure she had heard "Riddled with mould," and "Gone bad," being mumbled. Obviously dwarves didn't have blue cheese then. She wasn't too keen on it herself but some of her relatives loved the stuff and you never could be certain of when they would just pop in unannounced.

And now, after what felt like a life time but couldn't actually have been all that long, she was standing in the entry to her dining room slack jawed.

Twelve dwarves and one wizard was proving to be a little too much for her to handle as she watched food being thrown across the table to land on plates or in various mouths. She had seen Dwalin trying to keep some kind of order at the table but failing and she could tell that if she were to ask them to behave she would get the same answer "We are!"

They weren't actually that bad – even if there table manner did resemble those of a ten year old. After Dwalin and whisked Fili and Kili away by their collars each of the dwarves had filed in and introduced themselves with a deep bow and a 'thank you for the hospitality' to be sent off to work by Gandalf. And several times in the pandemonium that had followed, when she had failed to react quickly enough, one of them always seemed to be around to sweep her out of the path of an oncoming plate of food or pile of crockery. And there had always been a quick apology from the carrier and her rescuer and a slight dip at the waist or nod of the head.

Gandalf had told her some of them had travelled a very long way to get here – although he still hadn't told her why and she still held fast to the notion that they were very much lost – with only the food they had brought or could catch to fill their stomachs. Her Hobbit sensibilities had shivered at the very idea. Hobbits in general loved their food, the more vast the selection the better and the idea of being limited in such a way was not appealing. After all there were only so many ways you could cut a fish or a rabbit when out on the road…not that she spoke from experience.

So she took pity on them and left them too it not able to find it in herself to begin asking questions when they appeared to be enjoying the food so much. She retreated to the fire place and rotated between perching nervously on the edge of the armchair and standing, taking deep, calming breaths and trying to convince herself this was nothing to get worked up about. Only making herself known to rescue some books from being used as coasters – and was that a footprint on her table? -, a doilie being used as a dish cloth and a map being used to – well she still hadn't figure out just what they were trying to do with the map.

When it was clear they were all finished she began to clear the table. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the whole table erupted in thanks and compliments on her cooking. A blush burned her cheeks at the praise and she soon found the pile of plates she had collected being taken from her by Dwalin.

"We ate the food Miss Bilbo, we'll wash the dishes," he rumbled, towering over her.

"Oh, no, it's no trouble at all," she stammered casting her eye over several pieces of her mother's best crockery that had somehow got muddled in with the other plates and cups.

"Don't worry yourself, we could juggle this lot with one hand and still not break any of it," she looked back at Dwalin who was smiling at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

She sighed and nodded her head.

"Very well Mr Dwalin,"

She backed away from him and stood nervously watching as the plates and dishes were collected at an impressive speed by a dozen eager hands, washed by one of them and put away in exactly the right places. Wait, did the dwarf by her sink have an axe blade in his head? She gulped, closed her eyes and tried to remain standing. Her stomach rolling a little at the image that flashed in her mind of just how he could have got that.

Bilbo laughed and clapped her hands when in no time at all the dishes were cleaned and put away with no breakages. The tension that had filled her at the thought of her mother's dishes laying shattered on the floor fleeing her body. Some of the dwarves bowed theatrically low to her with beaming smiles.

And then a knock at her door silenced everyone.

"He's here," Gandalf said almost ominously and then she watched open mouthed as the wizard went to her door and opened it with her trailing behind the group like a duckling. She couldn't even see past the dwarves to her door to see just who had arrived.

This was just getting beyond the joke now. Who did Gandalf think he was, answering her door like this was his home?

"Gandalf, I thought you said his place would be easy to find," she could hear a deep voice, "I lost my way. Twice," She rolled her eyes at this. Twice indeed. Twelve dwarves and one wizard had made it to her door just fine without any complaints of being lost. Shame they didn't really. She might have got her supper and been in her nice warm bed by now if they had.

"I wouldn't have found it at all if it weren't for that mark on the door," the body-less stranger continued.

Mark?

She pushed past the standing dwarves who all stepped aside when they realised it was her and not one of their friends jostling by.

"There is no mark on that door," she announced, finally bursting past Dwalin and Balin into her front hallway. She should know, "I only painted it a week ago!"

Usually Holman Greenhand took care of keeping the paint fresh but he had recently taken on a Gamgee cousin and was taking care to show him the gardening work. It had been a nice day and Bilbo had painted the door herself and had enjoyed it, despite the scandalised glance Mr Greenhand had given her when she had told him. And there was no mark.

"Yes, there is a mark," Gandalf told her calmly as he shut her door, "I put it there myself,"

At least he had the decency to look almost bashful.

"Bilbo Baggins allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield,"

Silence again.

This dwarf was dark haired and from the grey streaks running from his scalp he was not as young as Fili or Kili but then not quite as old as Balin. He was a broad shouldered individual and muscled – although how much of that was his clothing and how much was actually him she couldn't quite tell. Like the rest of the company he was wearing heavy boots that looked like they could make a hole in the floor if he stepped too hard.

He frowned at her and she once more found herself being stared at with surprise – honestly, if anyone had a right to be staring in surprise it was her! – and then the dwarf was looking at Balin and Dwalin who were still standing where she had pushed by them.

"_This _is the Hobbit?" he asked sounding almost scandalised.

There was a rustling sound like someone was fidgeting and she heard a throat clear behind her.

"Well I am _a _Hobbit, and I am standing right here" she said fighting to keep her voice steady as the dwarf set his gaze on her once more.

"My apologies," he sounded sincere, "But tell me _Miss_," he took his eyes from her to shoot a look at Gandalf "Baggins, can you fight?"

_Fight?_

"I beg your pardon?" she met Gandalf's eyes for a split second before the old man looked away.

What was the wizard playing at?

"Axe or sword, what is your weapon of choice?"

Was he actually serious? She had seen some of the weapon that had been lined up by her front door. She was more likely to pull her arm from its socket before she could even lift one of them.

She gulped as he took a slight stop towards her and she fought not to take a step backwards.

"Well I do have some skill at conkers if you must know," she bit out, wanting to hit this arrogant, condescending male over the head with something heavy. Maybe she could lift an axe. Just for him. Well…just to wallop him with anyway…after she had done the same to Gandalf. Her smart answer got some chuckles and although she was waiting for some kind of reprimand from Gandalf for her words it never came.

"But I don't know what-"

"I thought so," he interrupted her and looked at Gandalf.

"She looks more like a grocer's daughter than a burglar Gandalf" he hissed, once again acting as though she wasn't even there.

This gained a few uncomfortable laughs and she could feel a flush of embarrassment climb into her cheeks and darken the tips of her ears.

And just like that he turned from her, told Gandalf he wanted a word, and walked into her dining room like he owned the place. Bilbo couldn't move for shock and it was Gandalf sighing heavily that had her finally come back to herself. She looked up at the wizard and levelled him with what she hoped was a good glare before stalking into the kitchen to get a cup of tea and see if any biscuits were left. As this Dwarf was doing such a good job of acting like her home was his she didn't need to treat him like guest then did she, she reasoned petulantly. This Thorin Oakenshield character could fend for himself and find his own supper.

* * *

**Hi everyone,**

**I know this is earlier than I said but you guys just blew me away with the thoughtful comments for the last chapter. Thank you so much. Warm-fuzzies doesn't even come near to covering it! So as a thank you I thought I would post up an extra chapter :).**

**DON'T PANIC! I will still be posting a chapter on Saturday. :)**

**Thorin has arrived! I know he seems like uber-jerk extraordinaire but in the next chapter (or/and possibly the one after) we will be hearing from him.**

**So far this has been my favourite chapter to write. I just love the company. And Bilbo still being unsure about just what is happening but starting to show her spine all the same. BTW yes I have made Bilbo a bit younger than she is in the book - there are a few reasons for this but I won't bore you with them ;)**

**Stay safe everyone and I'll see you on Saturday.**

***skips away***


	6. Chapter 6

***Still own nothing***

**Chapter 6**

**Thorin's Point of View**

Thorin knew little of Hobbits and their ways, but what he did know was enough to plant a seed of doubt in his mind in regards to the wizard. Hobbits were a peaceful bunch who seemed to be more famous for their lack of travel than for anything else. They lived, they worked and they died in their little country and rarely ventured from it. Content and happy.

It was this that had Thorin questioning Gandalf's decision.

Thorin did not want to be responsible for dragging a peaceful, soft little creature away from his home – burglar or no – to face dangers unknown and more than likely death. He did not know if he could deal with the life of an innocent on his conscience.

But then the wizard was adamant. It would be Bilbo Baggins of Bag-end or it would be no one.

So he had reluctantly agreed to go along with Gandalf's plan to meet the company and the burglar at the burglars home in Hobbiton – of all places.

And finally in the middle of his second round of the reasonably small settlement he had to stop a passing Hobbit – of which there had been few – and ask for directions. A shaking finger was used to point him up a path before the Hobbit – who he guessed to be a child or near enough – had dashed off in the opposite direction as quickly as he could. It was easy enough to find Bag-end once he had been pointed in the right direction and he couldn't stop the heavy sigh from escaping his lips at the cheering he heard from within.

The spirits of the Company would not be so high for much longer.

* * *

**A little while later**

Thorin glared at the wizard as he sat down at the top of the table, Gandalf taking a seat beside him while Balin placed a tankard of ale and a bowl of stew in front of him.

"Explain yourself, wizard," he snarled hoping that he had not been proved wrong – as Dwalin had predicted continually - in trusting Gandalf.

The wizard remained silent, puffing on his pipe as though he didn't have a care in the world. Thorin breathed deeply, reminding himself that this was a wizard he was dealing with and they were a law unto themselves. He looked around the table at the rest of the company. His eyes immediately finding his nephews first – his sister would have his hide if anything happened to them on this trip. It looked as though they had made it to the Shire in one piece though and they were whispering between themselves at the other end of the table.

He quickly ran his eye along either side of the table, checking over the rest of the company. They all seemed hearty and well – and from the flush and glint in some eyes they had been more than happy to test the ale that was sitting by his bowl before his arrival.

Next he looked to his immediate right and left to find that Balin was looking at his brother and Dwalin was eyeing the wizard and clenching his hands as if he wanted to plant his fist where it would do the most damage to the wizard to his body.

"Gandalf?" he hissed angrily and still the wizard did not respond and he breathed deeply one more.

The anger bubbled further within him not knowing what this man's game was. He should have followed Dwalin's council and known better than to trust the wizard. He expected them to put a woman in danger. Ignoring the fact that it was hardly proper for a woman to be alone in the presence of fourteen males, it would be dangerous.

He had looked the lass up and down earlier, taking her in and just stopping himself from circling her. From the tips of her almost Elven ears to her slight shoulders to her small waist and – from what he could see of them – slim legs. Everything about her said that she needed protecting and they had no time to be worrying about her on the long journey to Erebor. Although maybe she did have some fire inside her, as had been proved by the sharp conker comment. Her eyes had flashed at him and a flush had bloomed on her pale cheeks. He felt some guilt at his near interrogation of her but he had been angry at Gandalf for making a fool of him.

He could hear clinking from somewhere else in the strange house and a high pitched whistle.

"**Balin, Dwalin, what is the meaning of this?**" he asked, reverting to their own language, not wanting the lady of the house to overhear them speaking about her.

Balin simply shrugged.

"**Dwalin arrived first,**" he replied and Thorin turned his head to Dwalin who was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.

"**The lass had no idea we were coming. Little thing was all ready for bed when I arrived,**" the warrior grumbled and was that a blush?

A rumbling began at the table as dwarves turned to their neighbour and began to mumble softly to one another.

"**The lass was upset though she tried to hide it. I waited outside in the garden 'til Balin arrived,**" Dwalin chuckled at the mention of his brother and Thorin glanced to the older brother who was frowning and flushed.

"**Aye, alright, the lass gave me a surprise I'll admit it,**" Balin mumbled grudgingly.

Thorin reckoned her appearance shocked everyone. Except for the wizard. He threw Gandalf another glare.

"**Not to mention that she knew nothing of the mark on her door,**" Balin trailed off.

Thorin snorted at this and began eating the stew before it went cold.

'_Burglar in need of work' indeed._

He let out an appreciative grumble at the food. It wasn't bad at all. He took another spoonful and chewed. Not bad at all.

"**Aye the lass is a good little cook, even if she turns out not to be a burglar,**" said Bofur who was sitting puffing on his pipe, his ready smile on his face.

Grumbles of agreement filled the room as heads nodded eagerly and several lips where smacked together in memory of their dinner. He wondered just what the rest of them had eaten before his arrival to cause the almost dreamy smiles to appear on their lips.

"What game are you playing, wizard?" Dwalin snarled out of nowhere, his body tense and he stood to face the sitting man. Dwalin's sudden outburst caused several of the company to jump in fright but Thorin remained calm and continued to eat. Waiting to see where this would go.

Gandalf didn't even start. He continued to puff calmly on his pipe and not really focusing on anything.

"You wish us to put the lass in dangers way?" Dwalin snapped, mere inches away from Gandalf.

Still the wizard made no move. Until he slowly and coolly took his pipe from his mouth and spoke.

"Bilbo's mother was a friend of mine you know," he told them almost serenely before going back to his pipe.

And then, much to Thorin and everybody else's surprise – including the wizard - there was a knock on the door.

He did a quick head could and glanced at Balin who shrugged.

"This is getting ridiculous," he heard the mistress of the house snap under her breath from somewhere.

"Can't a body make herself a cup of tea without being interrupted,"

There were some guilty chuckles from the company and the not-burglar swept past the entrance at his back on her way to the front door. To his surprise the still standing Dwalin followed behind her as quietly as he could.

He heard the door open and his own curiosity got the better of him. All of his company was here so who would be calling on the Hobbit so late at night.

"Oh Mr Greenhand…is everything alright?"

There was a silence and Thorin got in view of the door in time to see a stout and sturdy Hobbit at the door, a pitchfork in hand. He was staring at Dwalin who was looming a few feet away with a look of fright and shock. He gulped and seemed to physically gather his courage.

"Aye Miss, young Hamfast was saying that he had heard some loud goings on up at Bag-End and some stranger asking for directions so I just thought I would come and make sure everything was fine," the Hobbit gulped again and gripped his pitchfork so tightly Thorin could see his knuckles whitening.

"Thank you for your concern Mr Greenhand, and thank Hamfast for me too," Miss Baggins answered softly, "But everything is fine, a friend of my mother's – do you remember Gandalf and his fireworks? – yes, well he is visiting you see and his companions were in need of a meal,"

Her words did nothing to calm the other Hobbit and his grip remained firm on the handle of the fork.

"Aye, well, as long as you're certain Miss," his looked past Dwalin and met Thorin's eyes for a moment before his eyes darted about at the rest of the company who had stood to see who it was. What little colour had remained in his cheeks fled immediately.

"And if you need anything you just come along to the smial," the Hobbit straightened slightly in an act of bravery that Thorin could tell was just that – an act.

"Thank you Mr Greenhand I'll do that. Goodnight now,"

"Um, yes, goodnight Miss," the Hobbit backed away from the door but not before throwing another frightened glance about the company.

She shut the door and leaned her forehead against the wood, sighing heavily before straightening again and facing them all.

"My gardener," she mumbled before heading back the way she had come.

"Bilbo my dear," Gandalf called from where he was still sitting at the table, "Bring your tea in here and let us begin,"

There was a grumble and a bang from what he now guessed to be the kitchen but no reply to Gandalf's words.

Gandalf was chuckling softly to himself when they all returned to their seats and Thorin went to work on finishing his stew.

"Just like her mother," the wizard chortled fondly.

"She isn't actually going to come with us is she?" Fili whispered to the table but no one had the chance to answer as the Hobbit appeared quickly and quietly in the doorway and went straight to Gandalf's side, a steaming cup in one hand and a biscuit in the other.

The whole table shot to their feet and began offering their seats – except for Thorin who had a spoonful of stew an inch from his mouth. It took several minutes for her to convince everyone to sit down and that she was quite happy standing.

Once everyone was settled again the questions began and Thorin prepared himself to give his men the bad news.

* * *

**Tada. **

**A chapter as promised. It is a bit later than I wanted – but in my defense I have been asleep most of the day courtesy (once again) of some new meds. Yuck. **

**Anyhoo. **

**There we have Thorin's point of view and hopefully now is acts of jerkdom are now a little easier to understand. Poor Thorin was embarrassed. Bless him. **

**And then we have some more of Bilbo's spirit coming through – once again, hopefully. :)**

**And why Bilbo is called...well...Bilbo will be covered at some point to guys :)**

**I hope you liked and once again thank you SO much for the comments they truly mean a great deal. **

**Take care. **

**:) **


	7. Chapter 7

***Own nothing :(***

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Bilbo's Point of View**

Thirteen…

Bilbo felt a little faint.

She now had thirteen dwarves and one wizard clogging up her dining room and nothing to show for it but an empty pantry and mud trodden into her carpet – even the youngest of the neighbouring children knew to wipe their feet _properly _before entering someone's house – and possibly a stained reputation if Mr Greenhands visit was anything to go by, but that would blow over quick enough.

She could feel the anxiety building within her chest at the memory of her almost entirely bare pantry shelves. But she fought for control and slammed the lid down on any dark memories.

She would begin baking tomorrow – that's what she would do – as soon as they were gone, and her stores would be back to where they had been in no time at all. She breathed in deeply through her nose and exhaled heavily through her mouth. Yes, it would all be fine. And in the meantime there was always the emergency supplies she kept in her bedroom. They would do her until her house was her own again.

She stood close at Gandalf's shoulder while the late comer – Thorin, a dark, brooding character if ever she had seen one – polished off what was left of the stew and ale. She had expected the intimidating dwarf to ask for more, as his companions had, after all, had no issue with empting her pantry in record timing. But he didn't. He sat quietly and ate what was put in front of him in between answering questions.

They were speaking of other dwarves and a visit Thorin had paid them to ask for help.

Bilbo was surprised that the other dwarves (all the way from the Iron Hills) were refusing to assist their kin in whatever it was they were planning on doing and she decided that she did not like this Dain person.

Silence fell after Thorin's announcement and the melancholy quiet made her feel more twitchy than the noise and food throwing over minutes before ever had.

"You're going on a quest?" she asked, immediately breaking the spell that had fallen over the gathered company. Thorin looked up at her as though she was a bug in his food and not the person whose food he had been eating and whose table he was sitting at. She wanted to do something to rectify that and felt the agitation build in her chest.

_How dare he! _She screamed inwardly. But she knew she was fooling herself. She wouldn't really do anything about it. So she took another sip of her tea to calm herself instead.

"Bilbo my dear, would you mind getting some more lights," Gandalf asked her gently, his voice soothing the hurt from Thorin's look.

She put her cup down on the table – hoping it would be free of any elbows – and slipped her biscuit into her apron pocket to join the four others that had managed to escape the hungry dwarves earlier.

She left to fetch more candles and lit the two lamps hanging from the walls either side of the entrance to the dining room. She placed two freshly lit candles onto the middle of the table to join the two already there – having to lean over the bulky shoulders of two dwarves whose names she couldn't remember to do so. She kept one in her hand, she would need it for her room later.

Her job complete she returned to Gandalf's side and took up her cup again. Standing on her tip toes she peered over his shoulder to look at the map he had finished flattening on the table.

Gandalf chuckled and he turned just enough to place a hand on her waist and guide her next to him. And into the place she had been avoiding. Next to Thorin.

She eyed up the Dwarfs hair, her own hair, the candle and the lack of space between them.

She blew out the candle and placed it next to the map. No point in tempting fate.

"Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands lies a single solitary peak," he explained to her, pointing to such a place on the map.

"The Lonely Mountain," she read thoughtfully and took out a biscuit. Crunching into it and thinking.

"You speak of Erebor, Gandalf?" she remembered reading of it in one of the many books her father and mother had collected. Hadn't it been destroyed by a dragon?

"Indeed Bilbo," Gandalf's eyes twinkled in that wizardly way that said he knew a lot more than he was letting on.

She hated that look. She knew it meant nothing good.

"Aye," she glanced up from a map at one of the dwarves, "Oin has read the portents," she tried to remember who Oin was, "And the portents say it is time," she caught several dwarves sighing heavily and rolling their eyes. Obviously they had heard this more than once.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold," she glanced around Gandalf to see the dwarf who was now speaking.

_That's right. Oin is the one with the ear trumpet._

"When the birds of yore return to Erebor the reign of the beast will end,"

She gulped.

"Uh, what beast?" she asked, stepping a little closer to Gandalf as all eyes turned to her.

The one with the funny hat took his pipe out of his mouth to answer her.

"That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible,"

She blinked.

Wasn't that the dragon that had destroyed Erebor? Did that mean it was still there? Thirteen dwarves and one wizard were going up against a dragon? Were they insane?

She began to fuss with the edge of her shawl with her empty hand and raised the cup to her mouth with the other. Trying to keep herself busy.

"…claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals," he continued.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is thank you, Mr…" she trailed of, cursing the number of names that had walked into her house.

"Bofur Miss," he told her helpfully going back to smoking his pipe, his eyes twinkling.

"Mr Bofur," she nodded her head.

She jumped, startled, when one of the younger dwarves scraped back his chair noisily – _my floor_ – and announced his lack of fear before being dragged back into his seat in a way only an older sibling would do.

"Mind your manners," the older dwarf hissed causing the younger one to flush.

"What is the meaning of this Gandalf," she whispered to the wizard who only looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"…we number just thirteen," Balin was talking now, looking around the table at each of the company, "and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest,"

She nearly giggled at the reaction this comment gained from the company as she backed away to lean against the wall to the side of the entrance so she could see everyone who was speaking. She tucked into another biscuit.

"I'm bright,"

"Pennies are dull to me,"

"Sorry, what did he say?"

And her personal favourite that carried above all the others.

"Here, who are you calling dim?"

A hand landed on the table and Kili…or was it Fili began to speak. A very rousing speech about being few but being fighters.

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company," piped in the dark haired and strangely beardless member of the duo, "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time,"

An excited chatter filled the table at this comment and Bilbo tried to stop her mouth from twitching into a grin when the wizard stuttered and stammered when asked just how many dragons he _had_ killed. He choked on a breath of smoke.

Her amusement quickly faded as chairs were pushed back and insults began to fly from one side of the table to the other. She stepped up quickly and tried to make herself heard above the racket, hoping to rescue her floor from anymore abuse.

"Excuse me…um…please,"

She didn't realise that she had come to stand behind Thorin's chair until he cried something and stood, nearly sending the chair right into her legs.

She leapt to the side, her tea cup thankfully empty, as all the dwarves sat down, the room becoming deathly silent compared to the noise of seconds before.

The dwarves sat in their seats like naughty children and Thorin spoke of other's eyeing up their mountain.

_Who would want a mountain if it comes with a dragon? Even if it hasn't been seen for sixty years. _

She bit into another biscuit, chewed and swallowed. Continuing to watch this strange group of visitors at her dining table with curiosity and nervousness.

"You forget, the Front Gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain,"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

They had locked themselves out of a mountain?

"That my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf spoke brandishing a key and handing it to a shocked Thorin who took it almost reverently.

"How came you by this?" the dwarf asked hoarsely and Bilbo was surprised that he could convay any emotion other than disapproval.

"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now,"

"If there is a key, there must be a door," said Fili…or was it Kili.

Gandalf nodded in agreement and pointed at runes drawn on the map and told the company about a hidden passage…

_Wonderful. Now they have the key. They are no longer locked out. And I can have my house back. All's well that –_

"…Dwarf doors are invisible when closed,"

She sighed. She should have known that was far too easy.

* * *

**Hi everyone. **

**I know, I am a terrible awful person for leaving you all hanging for so long - Bad me! - and ****I won't bore you all with excuses.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I shook it up enough for it not to be a boring repeat of the movie ;)**

**Thank you so much for all of the wonderful comments :).**

**There have been some questions as to the Dwalin/Thorin/Bilbo…thing. I can say that at the moment I am aiming for a Bilbo/Thorin with a protective/brotherly Dwalin. That's not to say that things won't change but right now that is the plan. **

**Take care everyone**

**:)**


	8. Chapter 8

**I still own nothing :(**

**Chapter 8**

* * *

**Dwalin'sPoint of View**

Dwalin kept a close eye on the little lass as Gandalf detailed what he knew of the hidden door and the secret entrance to Erebor – which wasn't a lot (_but a lot more than what we know) _ – and his plan – which was even less. He wondered if she realised how expressive her face was. She looked ready to giggle with mirth one moment and like she was about to start pulling at her hair in annoyance the next. And all the while she was crunching away on a biscuit and leaning against the wall to the side of Gandalf as though this was a regular occurance for her.

"That's why we need a burglar," piped up Ori, Dori and Nori's younger brother once Gandalf had reached the end of his semi-explanation.

If it wasn't for the fact that the dragon would recognise the smell of a dwarf anywhere nearby (if it was still alive that is) Dwalin was all in favour of sending the quick-witted and nimble fingered Nori into the layer. The thief had enough practice at such things after all. But no. Instead they were all here in the house of a Miss Bilbo Baggins and the wizard was more than happy to drag her from her nice cosy home and into all sorts of dangers.

Dwalin looked to the lass to see what her reaction was to the explanation and to Ori's words.

Bilbo had just popped the last of the biscuit into her mouth and was chewing as she swiped her hands together. She was staring ahead at nothing in particular and as far as Dwalin could tell from her glazed over eyes he wasn't entirely sure if she had been listening to the wizard. Either way he was willing her to throw them all out of her front door sharpish before she could get talked into anything.

"Hmm…" she swallowed, "A good one too I shouldn't wonder after that. An expert," she nodded her head thoughtfully and her eyes came back into focus. So she had been listening.

"And are you?" asked Gloin and Dwalin regretted that he wasn't near enough to kick the other Dwarf under the table.

"Am I what?" she asked confused and her wide eyes gaze shifted to him, looking for the answer.

Dwalin opened his mouth to say something, anything, to set her at ease when Oin misheard her despite his ear piece and announced to the room that she was an expert.

"Me!" her eyes widened impossibly further and she straightened from the wall to stand by Gandalf. She began to shake her head violently in denial so fast it looked like it hurt, "No! No, no, no. I am not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life," she told them.

Now that he could believe.

* * *

**Bilbo's POV**

Burglar her, Bilbo Baggins? The very idea was ridiculous and yet Gandalf looked deadly serious as did all of the dwarves at the table as they looked at her.

She had never stolen anything before. Well, unless you counted stealing back the silverware her horrid younger cousin, Lobelia, was always lifting and taking home with her... But taking back something that was already yours wasn't really stealing…was it?

"I'm afraid I am going to have to agree with Miss Baggins," she looked to Balin who was looking at her with an almost paternal smile, "She is not exactly burglar material,"

"Nope," she agreed readily.

_Finally someone making sense._

"Aye, the Wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin added looked at her and she nodded her head in agreement. Maybe someone who wasn't her would have taken offence at that but she was aware of her own limitations.

The table erupted with chatter. Some agreeing with the statement and others contradicting it.

And then Gandalf stood, his presence seeming to grow until she thought he would burst through her ceiling, his shadow spreading out from his body to envelope the room. Everyone hushed and her mouth dropped open as she watched the wizard who always seemed so docile and grandfatherly lose his temper.

"Enough!" he cried, "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar than a burglar she is," the shadow receded and he continued to stand.

Bilbo noticed though that her low ceiling made him look a little less intimidating as he had to stoop slightly or risk hitting his head.

_And what if Bilbo Baggins says she isn't a burglar, what then?_

"Hobbit's are remarkably light on their feet," she glanced down at the tops of her fuzzy feet, he had her there, "In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose," she couldn't argue with that either, she could even sneak past other Hobbits if she tried hard enough, "And, while the dragon-" she felt the colour drain from her face at the mention of the dragon, "-is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf the scent of Hobbit is all but unknown to him-"

_Yes, until he gobbles me up and decides Shire-Folk make a perfect Before-Dwarf snack._

"-which gives us a distinct advantage,"

Bilbo struggled to breathe properly. So they _were_ working on the idea that the dragon was alive. And it was Gandalf's great plan to send her into its lair and then what? Ask it very nicely if it could find some other gold filled mountain to live in?

"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of your company," Gandalf told Thorin, "and I have chosen Miss Baggins," Bilbo nearly leapt from her skin when the wizard's large hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"There's a lot more to her than appearances suggest. And should she agree to accompany us I think she will surprise not only us but herself,"

All eyes turned to her and she gulped, feeling the weight of their looks pressing down on her lungs.

This had to be some kind of elaborate prank.

But it wasn't. The eager, focused faces of the dwarves at her table were no act and Gandalf didn't strike her as the kind to play such pranks.

There was a squeeze to her shoulder again and she turned from the faces to concentrate on only one. Gandalf smiled at her his eyes twinkling.

"Just have a look at the contract my dear,"

Contract?

She nodded her head dumbly.

"Alright Gandalf, but only a look," she quirked an eyebrow in an attempt to show him that she meant it and his hand left her shoulder to collide with his other in loud clap.

"That's the spirit by dear. Balin, the contract!"

Before she knew it a small bundle was being pressed into her hands by a scowling Thorin.

She wondered if he ever smiled.

"It's just the usual things lass," Balin told her, smiling gently, "Summery of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth. If you need me to explain anything you just say so,"

_Funeral arrangements?_

She backed out of the room and stood alone in the well-lit hall.

_Deed of Contract _read the curling script.

She pulled the ribbon free and the paper unfolded until it touched the floor.

_Alright then._

"Bilbo my dear, come and sit down here and I shall bring you a nice cup of tea,"

"Hmm," she glanced up, half paying attention and saw Gandalf gesturing to the seat he had just vacated. She nodded and walked towards him, allowing herself to be guided into the chair.

Had she had Gandalf sitting on a regular chair all of this time?

"I am sorry Gandalf, I should have got your chair," she went to stand and rectify this. Her mother would be disgusted. She should have fetched the man sized chair from the storage room as soon as Gandalf had appeared at the door.

A firm but gentle grip was exercised on both of her shoulders by the wizard himself who smiled softly at her.

"Don't worry yourself Bilbo, I will manage,"

"But-"

"No, you just sit here and allow me to bring you some tea while you read the contract," his grip turned into a reassuring pat before he released her altogether, "It was very bad of me to trespass upon your evening the way I have done,"

She opened her mouth to tell him that 'no it wasn't' but decided not to and shut her mouth just as rapidly. She blushed when he let out a deep chuckle, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and left in the direction of the kitchen.

Leaving her with thirteen dwarves and one contract.

She decided to ignore the former in favour of the later.

"Conditions of Engangment," she muttered under her breath and then ran a quick eye down the document and sighed. This was going to take a while.

* * *

**Dwalin's POV**

Dwalin tried to decide whither to follow the wizard into the kitchen or stay put. It was Thorin standing to follow Gandalf that decided him and he glowered at the others to keep them quiet as Bilbo looked over the contract.

For some reason her reaction to the document was making them all nervous as they shifted and fused in their chairs.

Her smiles and almost giggles had him feeling a little anxious too and he was tempted to whisper to Balin and ask just what he had put in the contract to have her react in such a way.

Gandalf appeared with Hobbit sized cup of tea, closely followed by a glaring Thorin, and placed it in front of her. She nodded her head and muttered a 'Thank you' but never looked up as a grin spread across her face and she began to giggle again.

What had Balin put in that thing?

She continued to work her way down the document, muttering to herself and shaking her head at points – sometimes with a smile and sometimes without.

Finally after some time she sat back in her chair and giggled.

"Well first of all Mr Balin I must congratulate you on this fine contract,"

Balin almost preened opposite him and he rolled his eyes.

_Throw us out lass and be rid of us!_

She lifted the contract from the table and ran her eye over it, obviously looking for something specific amonst the jumble of words and Gandalf settled down in Thorin's chair.

"Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof; including, but not limited to, lacerations, evisceration, incineration," she looked to Gandalf but the wizard had sharply lifted his head and was glaring at Balin.

"Lacerations, evisceration and incineration, Gandalf," she spoke calmly, yet pointedly and put down the contract and took up her cup of tea.

Dwalin nearly grinned at the wizard's discomfort.

"Well my dear, there _may _be a dragon involved," he pointed out.

"Oh I haven't forgotten that bit," she told him almost sweetly, "It sounds to me like you need a dragon slayer not a burglar,"

**And so I give you chapter 8 :)**

**I hope you liked. Things will be getting VERY interesting in the next few chapters as Bilbo asks some questions about the contract. :)**

**Have any of you read the contract? I thought it was hilarious when I first saw it (or I could just be easily amused lol)**

**Take care**

**:)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Nothing is mine :( I am just playing in the Hobbit sandbox :)**

****You guys continue to blow me away with your lovely comments. Thank you so much! x****

**Chapter 9**

**Bilbo's Point of View**

"Never sign your name to anything before you have read it from beginning to end my girl. And be sure you understand every word of it," her father had told her time and again with a smile whenever she would stumble across him stooped over his desk reading some document or other, "If it takes you a month to do so, you let it. It is a lot harder to take back than to give your word and your name on a matter,"

So, when Bilbo sat down to read the bulky packet that was the company contract (at Gandalf's urging) it was with her father's words echoing through her mind. And she was prepared to give it all of her attention for however long was needed.

At first as she untied the band of leather and began to read she was still not completely convinced that it was not some highly elaborate and distasteful joke, but a quick glance at the still steady and serious faces surrounding her and at the wizard's expression quickly dashed that idea once again. So she continued reading, determined to take every word seriously – despite the constantly growing bubble of hysteria threatening to burst at any moment from within her.

She read the contract carefully from beginning to end unable to stop herself from frowning in places and giggling in others.

Upon reaching the end of the document she had come to the conclusion that it was a piece of art from the first word to the very last. Since her parents had died and she had been left to see to the up keep of Bag End (and some other land that her father owned) she had read and even written her fair share of legal documents and contracts, but this eclipsed them all. At least once a year the rental agreements had to be re-written and agreed upon for the farming land and for the past few years she had written them herself and had felt ridiculously proud of the achievement. But then Hobbits were simple folk and all the agreement really consisted of was rent payments and field yield percentages. Now she realised that her own almost pointless scribblings were nothing compared to the contract before her. It covered everything that she could think off and a few things that would have never occurred to her and the mention of her seven meals a day had brought a grin to her face and a flicker of her annoyance.

_Gandalf must have told them about that, or maybe someone who knew a little about Hobbits._

Despite the contract being one of the finest pieces of writing she had ever read, her reaction to most of it – she was ashamed to admit as she was trying to be serious – had been amusement. But when she had read the passage about the pipe-weed how could she be expected to keep her composure. But there were more than a few points that nearly had her giving into that bubble of hysteria. Points like the 'pest-control' and funeral arrangements were definitely a cause for concern in her mind.

_And why am I referred to as a he throughout?_

She pushed the contract away from her and allowed herself to give in ever so slightly to the hysteria tickling at her throat. She giggled and looked around the table until she found the grey haired and twinkly eyed dwarf she was seeking.

"Well," she choked, just managing to stop the giggles from escalating into a full scale laugh and – no doubt – from there to tears, "first of all Mister Balin I must congratulate you on this fine contract,"

The dwarf shot a wide smile at her and straightened in his chair at her compliment.

She smiled at his reaction and turned to look up at the wizard who sat down slowly in the empty chair at the head of the table.

Where had Thorin gone too?

_Never mind._

Bilbo shook her head to clear her thoughts and took up the contract again. She wanted to point something out to him and see if she understood things properly and now was as good a time as any to do just that.

She scanned for the passage she was looking for.

_Ah, here it is._

She began to read.

"Present company shall not be held liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof; including, but not limited to, lacerations, eviscerations, incineration,"

She knew well enough what that meant. This was a suicide quest and they wanted no complaints if she were to die.

Bilbo knew that more than one member of her family had been unhappy with the Thain's decision to allow her to remain at Bag End after her mother had died and would be more than happy to get their hands on Bag End no matter the circumstances.

She looked up at Gandalf but the wizard had sharply lifted his head and was glaring at Balin. Obviously Gandalf hadn't been involved directly with the writing of the contract then.

Bilbo cleared her throat and Gandalf focused on her.

_Good!_

"Lacerations, eviscerations and incineration, Gandalf," she spoke as calmly as she could and reached for her cup of now lukewarm tea. She took a sip and winced at the taste and feel of the cooling liquid on her tongue.

Gandalf cleared his throat in that nervous fashion she had quickly identified.

"Well my dear," he finally spoke, "there may be a dragon involved after all," he smiled sheepishly.

She remembered the dragon all right and what the burglars job seemed to involve.

_Pest-control indeed._

"Oh I haven't forgotten that bit Gandalf," she smiled at him, wondering just how he had the nerve to be so calm, "It sounds to me like you need a dragon slayer not a burglar," she bit out, waiting for some sign of agreement from Gandalf.

Nothing was forthcoming and the old man just lifted his pipe to his lips and began his puffing and blowing once more.

Perhaps she would have said something she would have later regretted – her anxiety and annoyance were rising quickly enough for that to be the case – if her stomach had not chosen that moment to growl.

Bilbo decided in a moment of self-righteous stubbornness that Erebor had been around for hundreds of years and it would still be there for the company to find whither she took the time to finally have some supper or not. Besides, no self-respecting Hobbit would ever make such a decision as this on half a cup of lukewarm tea and a couple of biscuits.

_No self-respecting Hobbit would be even considering going on this wild goose chase to begin with._

Well, that wasn't strictly true. She had more than a few cousins who she knew were just about mad enough to attempt such a journey.

She ignored all of her racing thoughts for the time being in favour of telling Gandalf what she was going to do as she was certain she had caught a look of panic flitting across the wizards face when she stood with no warning.

"I need a warm cup of tea and some supper of my own Gandalf," she told him tiredly, rubbing a hand over her eyes and wondering just what time it was. "And while I eat perhaps you and your companions could answer some of my questions,"

The panic faded from the wizard's eyes and he nodded his head in agreement.

Bilbo went straight to her bedroom without further discussion and fell to her knees in front of her bedside table and, reaching for the door to the small cupboard she saw her hands were shaking. She stopped and clenched and unclenched them a few times, looking at them like she had never seen them before. Had they been trembling this whole time? She hadn't noticed.

She opened the cupboard and pulled out one of several small sacks. She tipped it out and half a loaf of seedy bread and a chunk of cheese tumbled onto her lap. That would do her. She would toast the bread - a far cry from her lovely fish but a far sight better than biscuits. Her supper decided upon she put the bread and cheese onto the table and went to stand, only to find that her now trembling legs refused to cooperate.

"Stop being such a little idiot," she berated herself even as she swivelled around slightly to rest her back against the side of her bed and drew her traitorous knees up to rest her forehead on.

She breathed, feeling sick and wobbly even though she was already sitting.

In and out, steady does it.

All at once everything seemed to crash into her mind. Dwarves. Erebor. Gold. Dragons. Adventure. Dying.

Her breaths became quicker in her panic and she fought to calm them.

"You're fine Bilbo, just fine," she whispered to herself, breathing though the slight fogginess that was beginning to encroach upon her vision.

All she had said to Gandalf was that she was going to read the contact. That was all. And yet just the idea that Gandalf fully expected these things of her frightened her to death.

_Pull yourself together Bilbo Baggins!_

She refused to faint! She was not going to pass out when she had a dining room full of strange men – even if one of them was an old friend of her mothers. She regained control of herself slowly and took her time in standing and recovering her provisions.

She could hear the soft mumbling of the Dwarves upon making her way back to the kitchen but she was too annoyed at herself and too hungry to pay them much attention. She set the kettle to boil as she sliced the bread and cheese onto a plate.

All the while her mind was racing.

These Dwarves were going on a quest to reclaim their home. A home that had been taken from them violently and suddenly and had led to countless deaths. How would she feel if her home had been taken from her so quickly and with such destruction?

_I would want it back as soon as I could get it._

And coming from that standpoint she could agree quite happily to the quest, if it was as simple as it first sounded.

Travel from Bag end to Erebor and find the back door. Simple really. But it was a long way from the Shire to the Lonely Mountain and then even if they made it there was the potential fire breathing, dwarf-eating 'pest' at the end.

Bilbo's hands began to shake once again as she poured her tea and she gripped the handle more firmly – surprised when it didn't break.

She was Bilbo Baggins of Bag End not some snivelling little ninny who couldn't do anything for herself. She had been her own person and had been looking after herself for years now and she could manage to keep herself together for the rest of the evening.

She grabbed the plate, a long fork that usually hung from the wall balanced on top of the food and the tea in her other hand. She went to her father's chair by the fire.

She put the plate onto the chair and sat on the floor in front of the dancing flames, placing her cup next to her on the rug.

One of the Dwarves must have been keeping an eye on the fire as it should have gone out quite a while ago. She was glad she didn't have to fuss about with relighting it.

The Dwarves had fallen silent in the dining room as she arranged her skirt around her legs and put a slice of bread onto the fork. She held it over the fire and gazed thoughtfully into the flames.

Her mother had done this with her once upon a time when they had gone camping throughout the Shire – Belladonna had even managed to talk her husband into accompanying them more than once and the family trips had become treasured memories to Bilbo. Their own little family adventures…

She breathed steadily, ignoring the lump that always came to her chest at the thought of her parents who had both passed well before their time, and only looked up from the fire when she heard a thud and Gandalf was leading two of the Dwarves into the room carrying his proper sized chair. She remembered using it as a climbing frame when she was a child.

The two Dwarves whose names she couldn't quite remember yet placed the chair opposite the arm chair but not close enough to make her feel trapped and left silently after a nod and a smile in her direction.

Gandalf sat down in the chair and smoked his pipe.

Bilbo took the piece of slightly singed but perfectly edible toast from the fork, blew on it and took a bite.

It was time to ask some questions.

* * *

**Tada. **

**Things are going to get really interesting soon hehe ;)**

**I for one really wanted to have Bilbo faint (and I know that a couple of you wanted that too) but it just didn't seem to fit right in the story. I mean if I was alone in my house with 14 strange men the last thing I would want to do it faint and be at their mercy. I really hope that didn't disappoint you :(**

**On a side-note I am re-discovering Tumblr and having great fun using it! I am posting my tries at one-shots there. So if you like ****_Rumbelle (once upon a time) OR _**_**Sherlock (BBC)**_** they are what I am mainly focusing on. I have a whole universe of FEMSherlock going on in my head so a lot of it will be that too :)**

**Also, if you guys like, I am more than happy to post teasers to whatever chapter of The Burglaress I am working on at the time to Tumblr...? Anyhoo Let me know if you guys would like me to do that. **

**I am griffinquillsandoctopusink dot tumblr dot com if you are interested :-)**

**Toodles :)**


	10. Chapter 10

***I won ZILCH***

**Chapter 10**

**The Dwarves Point of View**

They all sat in a respective silence to begin with not wanting to risk upsetting their hostess or distracting her as she read – the glare Dwalin had levelled at each of them may have also had something to do with this wise course of action. There was also the strange feeling that filed them all like they were the cause of a family argument as the mistress of the house spoke with the wizard. And then there was that cold feeing of guilt that filed thirteen stomachs when the little Hobbit's own stomach had growled and it was made clear to them all that while they had cheerfully emptied her pantry she had eaten nothing.

The company only began to talk softly among themselves when she had left the room to fetch her food from who knew where.

Balin was the first to break the uncharacteristic silence.

"I think we have overwhelmed Miss Baggins,"

There were a few guilty nods and a humourless chuckle from Thorin who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest against the wall.

"Some burglar you have found for us Gandalf," the kingdomless royal growled.

The wizard remained silent but threw a poisonous frown at the Dwarf.

"Aye, she is the right size for a burglar I'll give you that," spoke up Nori (who knew a thing or two about burglary – just ask any member of a local law enforcement watch) "But she is a little nervy, no?"

"Not to mention," Balin spoke up once again, "that she didn't even know to expect us,"

"Aye and whose fault is that?" grumbled Dwalin, glaring menacingly at Gandalf. "And how did you expect the lass to act when fourteen strangers appeared on her door step," he growled at Nori.

The other Dwarf raised his hands in surrender and everyone proceeded to glare at the wizard.

"Perhaps," the combined pressure of the thirteen pairs of eyes seemed to finally get to the man, "I could have worded things differently this morning when I spoke to her," he admitted, slowly standing. "Now, if I could trouble Gloin and Dori to help me with something I would be most grateful,"

The chosen dwarves exchanged curious glances but followed Gandalf from the room just as the hiss of boiling water could be heard from the kitchen.

Once again the flush of guilt tinged their faces as the Hobbit exited the kitchen with a cup and a plate of bread and cheese – nothing at all like their own colourful and flavourful meal. The Hobbit made herself comfortable in front of the fire and they watched in silence as she began to toast her bread.

* * *

**Dwalin's Point of View**

Dwalin fell silent after he had quickly put Nori in his place and stewed in own guilt. He had seen the state that her stores had been left in once the company had finished filling their bellies and decided that before they left he would see about snaring some rabbits to at least put something back into the empty room.

The anger he was feeling towards himself was only eclipsed by rage aimed at Gandalf the Grey.

He was annoyed by the wizard's attitude towards the Hobbit woman, everything the wizard was doing just seemed to be confusing the poor lass even more.

His eyes narrowed on the wizard as he came back from wherever he had vanished to with Gloin and Dori. The pair were following close behind carrying a Man sized chair. What was the old man's game? He was more than capable of carrying the chair himself. They put the chair down where Gandalf told them too and returned to the table. Dwalin watched the two silent company members carefully as they exchanged glances.

Something was going on but he would find out just what later as Bilbo was beginning to speak.

* * *

**Bilbo's Point of View**

Bilbo broke the silence once she had finished her first slice of dry toast and had begun toasting the second slice of bread – this time with some cheese.

"I am sorry if this seems rude of me Gandalf, but just why are you here?" she asked, hoping that she didn't come across too sharp or forceful. The last thing she wanted to do was insult a wizard so early in life.

"To offer you the chance of an adventure, my dear,"

Bilbo looked at him and she saw that he was being truthful – at least partly so anyway. Gandalf struck her as the kind of person who was working to more than one plot at the same time.

"But why me?" she took the toast and cheese from the fire and let it cool, "I am nothing special Gandalf," she was speaking the truth, she was the most normal Hobbit she knew, "I am just Bilbo Baggins. I would only get in the way and be a nuisance…" she trailed off. She was a Baggins and everyone knew that Baggins' were the steadiest bunch of Hobbits you could ever hope to find.

"Hmm," she looked away from the cooling toast and met Gandalf's eyes. He was smiling gently at her, "Perhaps it is you I should be trying to convince more than out rock headed company hmm?" a brow quirked up and his eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled at her, "Believe me my dear, I know that no one would be better suited for this task than yourself. I would not be here otherwise,"

Silence fell for a moment, Bilbo really had no idea what to say in reply to that.

"Come now! Whatever happened to that young Hobbit I once knew who would wonder home late at night fresh from searching for elves. Trailing mud and leaves behind her,"

Bilbo chuckled at the memories Gandalf's words brought to her mind. It seemed like a thousand years ago and yet it wasn't all that long ago that she was that young Hobbit. Not long at all…

"Much to the displeasure of father," she mumbled and Gandalf chuckled deeply.

"Gandalf," she sighed, taking a bite of her cooled cheese and toast, "I am a Baggins. Adventure hardly runs through our veins. It is more likely to bring us out in hives," she spoke around her toast, wincing at her own lack of manners but she was sure Gandalf would forgive her and he didn't seem to mind. It tasted quite good and she set up the fork with the next batch and held it towards the fire.

"And really, out of all the adventurous occupations you choose a burglar. A burglar of all things,"

"My dear Bilbo," laughed Gandalf, "You forget that you are also a Took,"

Bilbo could not help but roll her eyes as he told her that tale of Bullroarer Took knocking the Goblin king's head from his neck and inventing the game of golf at the same time – personally she couldn't remember that part being in her mothers version.

"I think you made that all up," she told him, finishing her toast and sipping at her tea.

"All good tales deserve embellishment. Wouldn't you like to be a wizened old Hobbit with a gaggle of youngsters surrounding you and begging for more stories of your adventures?"

Bilbo couldn't help but laugh at the old rascal's words as he tried to tempt her.

"I think you will find that I am more my father's daughter than my mother's. If you head towards the river you will be tripping over my more adventurous cousins," she pointed vaguely in the direction of the river but the only reply she got from Gandalf was a laugh.

"No my dear, you will suit very well. Now ask your questions and we will see what we can do about giving you some answers,"

Bilbo felt a sense of relief that there would be no more beating about the bush and put down her cup, stood and brushed the crumbs from her hands and skirt and into the fire as much as she could. She missed mostly but she would set about cleaning as soon as she had the first batch of baking in the oven the next morning.

Guilt prickled at her stomach as she thought about the Dwarves setting off short one much needed Hobbit-Burglar (if Gandalf was to be believed).

_It's all good and well the Dragon not knowing what a Hobbit smells like but what if he decides it is nicer than Dwarf._

She stood straight and turned away from the fire.

With purpose she went back to the dining table where all the Dwarves were sitting in an eerie silence and swept up the contract.

She unfolded it completely and it fluttered against her dress as she studied the words.

_Conditions of Engagement. _

Just where was she supposed to be begin?

Bilbo began to click her tongue nervously against the roof of her mouth.

_Might as well start with the most trivial. _

**Hi guys**

**First of all. **

**Wow. Thank you so much for all of your wonderful, encouraging and just lovely comments from the last chapter. **

**Moving on before I turn into a emotional wreck. **

**Anyhoo I am sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter than others but I am going to be computer-less for the next week and I wanted to avoid leaving you all hanging for 2 weeks - because you are all brilliant :)**

**Take care everyone and I'll be back next Sunday or Monday all thing being well :)**

**x**


	11. Chapter 11

**I do not own The Hobbit. Very sad :(**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**Bilbo's Point of View**

"Why am I referred to as a 'he' throughout the contract?" she asked calmly.

She looked to Gandalf and a sheepish expression came over the wizard's face as a throat or four was cleared at the table behind her. Was that embarrassment she detected?

"Yes, well," Gandalf coughed, "I may have neglected to tell our company otherwise," he admitted having the decency to not meet her eyes.

"Indeed," she commented dryly and turned to face the company as Balin began to speak.

"We assumed Mistress Baggins, as Gandalf never told us otherwise. And Bilbo is, well, excuse me for saying lass, but it sounds a lot like a lads name," the Dwarves all shifted uncomfortably as she remained silent. She couldn't remain so silent for long though and began to giggle, taking pity on the poor Dwarves who though they had insulted her with their assumptions about her name.

"That is because it _is_ a boy's name, Master Balin," she told them once her giggling had stopped, and now frowns replaced the shifting.

"I am the result, or rather my name is, of what happens when you hand the wrapped up new-born to the shell-shocked new-father while also in the company of the record keeper," she smiled, just imagining how her father must have been that day.

There was an awkward silence and Bilbo used it to recover her cup of tea from in front of the fire and return to her spot inside the entrance to the dining room, cup in one hand and contract in the other.

In her absences several of the Dwarves had stood and were gesturing to their now empty seats.

Bilbo felt uncomfortable with the courtesy. Uninvited as they may be they were still her guests and obviously the majority of them were her elders and they were offering their chairs. The head chair was unoccupied but the grouchy late comer was standing in the corner and she didn't want to take his chair and possibly make him even more out of humour.

She noticed that one of the younger members of the group had also stood so she thankfully took his place, not feeling quite so bad, especially as her knees had begun to tremble – again – and she doubted she could stand for much longer. The young Dwarf blushed at her smile of thanks and pushed the chair in gently behind her so that she would be close enough to use the table.

"Poor father," she continued her story as the silence still hung thick in the air, "was so excited to have a child he didn't realise that Bilbo was not a suitable name for me. And so I have been Bilbo ever since," she stopped her rambling and looked around at the staring males.

_Silly Bilbo! They didn't want to know all of that_.

They continued to stare at her and she wondered if Dwarves didn't speak of such things that dealt or touched on child birth.

She quickly took a sip of her tea to try and steady herself and moved on.

_What next?_

She scanned her eyes over the paper.

"Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of the total profit if any," she mumbled under her breath, nodding her head in silent agreement with this, "Seems to be fair to me,"

She shook her head in amusement as she read once again over the section dealing with the plaque that would be erected in her honour should she die.

_Very decent of them. Although I would love to know how I can pick the material and place if I am dead._

"Meals," she mumbled next, "So called second breakfast, morning or afternoon tea, or late supper are not included,"

Bilbo felt like announcing that she was quite capable of surviving on three (or less) meals a day thank you very much, but kept it to herself. In fact she found the thought of Balin panicking over feeding a tiny Hobbit with an apparently bottomless stomach seven meals a day while on a long journey highly amusing.

She giggled and continued to scan the document.

Ah yes, the pipeweed.

"Now, my father, grandfather and even a grandmother I have been told loved their pipes but I have never been partial to pipeweed myself," the smell of the burning dry-leaves reminded her so much of her father but the one time she had tried it at the urging of her cousins (really, she should have known better) she had rapidly vomited her afternoon tea, narrowly missing them. She had avoided it like the plague since, "So you'll excuse me if I don't go out of my way to steal any?" there was a chuckle or two and she was sure that Balin was blushing. He nodded his head in agreement.

"I do however have a barrel of the stuff in storage that you are more than welcome too," heaven knew she was never going to smoke the horrible stuff and she only kept it around for when her uncles paid the occasional visit. There was an outpouring of thanks from the table except from Thorin who continued to scowl from the corner. She shivered at his dark gaze fixed on her, glaring.

Had he been staring the whole time?

She quickly dropped her eyes to the contract again and more nervously than before continued to mumble some of the words under her breath. She could feel the burning gaze on her now that she was aware of it and fought to ignore it, throwing herself into finding her next issue with the contract.

She only had one more problem with the contract and it was a pretty big one and one that Gandalf had been dancing around.

"Now then Gandalf, how about this 'so-called 'pest-control'' that can lead to the lacerations, incineration etc, and how the 'Present company'," she waved at the room to indicate the Dwarves, "'is not obliged' to lend a hand with it,"

There was an outbreak of mumbling in a language she couldn't understand and someone from behind her took the contract from her hand with a "Excuse me Mistress Baggins," and the next thing she knew there was a little group of them – including the imposing but comforting Dwalin – studying the contract in the hallway. She shrugged in confusion and continued with addressing the wizard who had left his chair by the fire and was standing slightly hunched in the hallway to the side of the growing group. The wicked and vindictive side of her hoped that he would hit his head on the light.

_It would serve him right if he did. _

"I have dealt with a mouse or two," there was a huff of sarcastic amusement from the direction of Thorin and she bristled inwardly, "but any have yet to try to bite off my arm or burn me to a crisp," she quirked an eyebrow.

Bilbo's hands began to shake now that they were empty and she quickly tucked them out of sight on her lap and clenched them together.

"The dragon, my dear,"

She was beginning to get a little annoyed with getting the same answer over and over again.

"Yes, I understood that part Gandalf and I will ask you again. What good is a Burglar against a dragon?"

Silence once again fell between herself and her mother's old friend. The only sound in the room was coming from the Dwarves, who were still pouring over her contract and mumbling among themselves just to the side of Gandalf.

She felt like she was being some petulant and moody child as the silence continued but surely she deserved an answer.

"I have every confidence in you Bilbo," Gandalf looked her in the eye as he spoke with utter conviction, "that should Smaug still be alive you will be just fine," Bilbo realised that though he may be speaking the truth he had not answered her question.

She sighed and sat back in the chair taking the opportunity to look around at the thirteen Dwarves. There were only a few of them still at the table as most of them were circling the contract.

She smiled shyly at the Dwarf who was sporting the axe through his head and the red headed one who looked like he could be rolled from place to place. Thorin's disapproving glower was no longer focused on her she was glad to see but on the group in the hall.

One of the older Dwarves – didn't he have a hearing horn not too long ago? – had a bag up on the table top and with the help of another he was rifling through it mumbling unknown words backwards and forwards and glances up at her every now and then and setting out little packets of herbs and leaves onto the table top.

Fili and Kili were still in their seats at the end of the table having a hushed conversation of their own and seemed to be blind and deaf to the rest of the room.

The others were all studying her contract with great animation and were constantly pointing between the document and Balin who was speaking rapidly in the unfamiliar language.

Thirteen Dwarves from an entire nation were being brave enough to try and reclaim their lost kingdom. It was going to be a dangerous quest most certainly and if she did accompany them she could die (would more than likely die – no one could ever accuse Bilbo of not being a realist). But in the grand scheme of things what was one little Hobbit compared to reclaiming the home of thousands of Dwarves.

The more harsh and cynical side of Bilbo's mind was not quite so self-sacrificing as all of that though.

_Just where are all of these thousands of Dwarves now?_

Hiding in their Iron Hills and playing the 'this quest is yours' tune.

Bilbo had read enough history books to know how it would play out.

Should the quest succeed those who had been too cowardly to step up when needed would be all too happy to profit from the success.

_And should it fail?_

Well, they had lost nothing and had a poor group of idiots to laugh about when in drink and they could congratulate themselves in refusing to take part in such a ridiculous scheme.

Just the thought of it angered Bilbo, her sense of fairness and right rebelling at such an idea.

She needed to think, alone, quiet and – she looked up at Thorin – with no one glowering at her like she had just drowned a bag full of kittens in the river.

Bilbo stood. Her traitorous legs beginning to shake again but she straightened them stubbornly.

"I need to think Gandalf," she told the wizard who nodded his head in silent understanding.

"I won't be gone long. Help yourself to tea and whatever is left in the pantry,"

_If they can find anything they deserve to eat it. _

She headed to the door, swinging a cloak from the row of hooks around her shoulders. She paused with her hand on the latch.

"Can you…" she swallowed, "can you promise me I would come back. If…" she gulped again, "If I came," she faltered, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

A shadow seemed to fall across Gandalf's eyes and he shook his grey head.

Bilbo felt something in her sink.

"Oh,"

"And if you did, you would never be the same, my dear,"

Bilbo gulped around the lump in her throat and nodded her head in acceptance. After all, it wasn't like he was telling her something she didn't know he had only clarified it.

_At least he was honest. _

She pulled the door open and stepped out into the cool night.

"I will be back shorty Gandalf," she pulled the door shut behind her and leaned against the sturdy wood, breathing steadily and taking in the stillness f the night.

She walked down the steps and took a seat on the bench.

_How ironic. Just where this crazy day started._

* * *

**Tada!**_  
_

**So I have internet access a bit earlier than expected and after trying a truly horrible attempt at a Smauglock I though I would post chapter 11 a bit earlier. **

**I hope you all enjoyed it!**

**Take care. **

**:)**


End file.
